The Sparkles of Passion
by Random Prophet
Summary: Admirala is a girl looking for love... in all the wrong places. Will she ever find true love? Heck no! Rated for violence and vague sexual references.
1. Sparkles of Passion

I AM GOING TO HELL FOR THIS.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except Admirala, and she's so common I don't think I own her in the first place. Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, who is God.

Sparkles of Passion

Admirala Edwina Pheonix was no normal girl, oh no. She had long, green hair with blue tips(all natural!), sparkling sapphire eyes, unblemished white skin, curves in all the right places, and amazing alchemical powers! When she was a young girl, her family was ravaged by an unnamed ethnic minority that the author demonized for a plot point. Then, her only options to support herself were either to become a State Alchemist1 or a Seamstress.2 Due to her amazing alchemical prowess, she became the youngest State Alchemist since Edward Elric at the age of nine. Wherever she went, a trail of fanboys and pink sparkles followed.

1 The average age of which seemed to be decreasing over the past five years. Many alchemists attributed it to something in the water.

2 A very popular job in Central. In fact, most lonely young bachelors went to get their socks darned, and went back several times a week.

But none of her suitors impressed her. They were lacking a certain charm, if you will. What Admirala wanted was someone like her. Someone with perfect skin. Someone with well groomed hair and a perfect moustache. Someone who sparkled like the stars dotting a moonless night sky.

Then, one day, her true love was found.

She was walking down the hall of Central Headquarters, her long hair billowing out behind her like the waves of the ocean. Her red outfit was so skintight and revealing that one would believe she had chosen the path of a, er, Seamstress Due to the sparkles clouding her vision, she did not notice the tall figure of a man until they collided.

"Ah, forgive me, young lady!"

It was like the voice of an angel. Admirala raised her sapphire orbs up to the tall man's eyes and gasped.

He was about seven feet tall, and almost completely bald save one curly bang and a huge moustache that obscured his mouth. He was middle aged, yes, but true love knows no age. In her trance, Admirala dropped her papers.

"Excuse me, sir, but may I ask your name?" she said breathlessly.

"I am Major Alex Louis Armstrong, the Strong Arm Alchemist!"

Her hero threw the top of his uniform off and started to pose, his sculpted body gleaming in the sunlight. And what a body it was. Admirala guessed that he must have a twenty-pac.

But the one thing that caught her attention and told her that the two of them were destined lovers was the pink sparkles surrounding the major. He could have been a beacon in the thickest fog. It was then that she knew that at last she had found her true love.

"You must be an angel sent from the very heavens," said the beautiful young girl. Armstrong was jerked out of his routine. He certainly hadn't been expecting this.

"What do you mean, young miss?"

"I mean," said Admirala with a meaningful pause, "that you are the one to save me from this meaningless existence." She drew uncomfortably close to the major. "I am madly in love with you."

Armstrong was hopelessly confused and disturbed. This revealingly-dressed girl who had to be at most thirty years younger than him had given him one look and decided she was his true love. Things like that just didn't happen.

"Come with me," continued the girl in a rather… excited tone, "so that the sparkles of our love may fuse and merge!"

Armstrong was speechless. Then, he came to a conclusion.

Had young Edward Elric not mentioned a Homunculus that could change forms before his disappearance? Yes! This girl was an illusion set to draw him into a trap! She'd thought she could fool the Strong Arm Alchemist, but the cleverness of the Armstrong family was renowned world over!

"Ha! You may have fooled a younger man, but not today! Now be gone, foul Homunculus, before I must use force!"

Admirala gaped. How could her true love betray her like this?

"I… I bet you're gay!" snarled the girl as she ran off, tears streaming down her face. Armstrong smiled grimly behind his moustache.

Armstrong 1, Mary Sues 0.

It physically hurt to type that. Ow.


	2. You Blow My Mind Out

Yeah, chapter 2! Sorry about the weird label thing. It was originally on Livejournal. Also forgive me for the lack of disclaimer, though I think chapter 1 took care of that. At least, I hope. I ought to add that I don't own Admirala's State Alchemist name. It's from Piratemonkey's Harry Potter Sue parody.

Admirala rushed out of Central Headquarters, furious at Armstrong's betrayal. How could he not love her? She was beautiful, she had a lovely singing voice, and the two of them would sparkle in perfect unison!

I will never love again, she thought. Not for as long as I live out this miserable existence.

Scar looked down at Admirala's file. There was no possible way that she couldn't be the infamous Sparkilypoo Alchemist. She dressed like a Seamstress1, she had grossly unnatural hair (honestly, what kind of individual would want green hair?), and a trail of sparkles followed her like a swarm of enraged bees. Her beauty had been grossly exaggerated, though. To Scar, she looked rather plain… but beautiful or not, anyone who went against the word of God had to be eliminated.

1 Scar had once made the mistake of wandering into a Seamstress' shop. Unlike many men who had done the same, he came back out decidedly angrier than he had been when he went in.

Admirala tore towards her apartment. When she got home, she planned to slit her wrists. Oh, yes, that'd show him. She imagined the scene: Armstrong sobbing over her casket, wishing he'd loved her…

Then, i he /i stepped out of the alleyway.

He had skin like milk chocolate and sun-bleached white hair. His face was adorned with a grim expression and a pair of sunglasses, which no doubt obscured beautiful eyes. The only disfigurement that she noted was a large, X-shaped scar on his face, which made him look like a mascot for an interactive radio show company2, but it added to his charm. Unfortunately, he did not sparkle, but what was one fault?

2 Interactive radio shows were the Amestrian forerunner of video games, and not nearly as successful. They still drew criticism from the Letoan Church, which certainly says something about organized religions everywhere.

Scar hesitated. A few seconds ago, she'd looked plainer than the Flats of Dublith, but now…

Of course, it must have been her ungodly alchemy. There was no other explanation.

"Admirala Edwina Pheonix, the Sparkilypoo Alchemist. You have been deemed an abomination in the eyes of God-"

"Oh, now don't play hard to get," said the alchemist. Scar blinked. What was she talking about? Shouldn't she be begging for mercy?

"After all, we are destined lovers," she continued coyly. The Ishbalan gaped, and then regained his bearings.

"No, we are not destined lovers. There is nothing destined about our meeting, other than God guiding me here to smite you. In fact, there have been no records of any prophecies regarding 'destined lovers' since the book of Achmed the Lesser, which was fulfilled three hundred years ago by Romaeo and Djuli."

"Then let us be like those lovers!" exclaimed Admirala, who began to draw close. Scar grabbed her face before she could embrace him.

"May God have mercy on your soul, temptress," he breathed as he rendered the alchemist's brains modern art. He let go, watched Admirala slump to the ground, and began to walk away… when he froze. He looked down, and to his horror saw the girl clinging to his leg. Her eyes were vacant, like a dead thing, and her head lolled slightly to the side. Nether factors were as terrifying as her smile, though. He'd seen a similar smile on the Homunculus Gluttony.

"Why did you do that, Scar?" she said, despite not having been told his alias earlier3. "I only wanted to be loved…"

3Admirala had the observational skills of a blind person, and failed to notice every wanted poster in Central.

Scar shook her off and bolted. Some things couldn't be solved with an Arm of Doom, and Admirala was one of them.


	3. The Seven Chapter Long Flashback Summed ...

Hello, readers! You didn't think that death could stop Admirala, did you? Not with everything I have planned for her.

I put a disclaimer on the first two chapters. I'm sorry 'bout the crappy formatting, too. (I'm new at this, can't you tell?) If you want, I'll bake you all sparkle-shaped cookies!

The Seven Chapter Long Flashback Summed Up In One

Admirala's life flashed before her eyes like lasers in a seizure-inducing cartoon. There was her meeting the Elric brothers, the brothers fleeing in terror at the sight of her, her family being destroyed by the unnamed ethnic group, and the State Alchemist exam.

Let us take a journey back in time to where these events began.

Admirala's life began in Risembool. The same Risembool, in fact, that the Elric brothers grew up in.

Contrary to what she'd tell you, it should be known that Edward and Alphonse were not very fond of her.

* * *

"EDWAAAAAARRRRD! LET'S PWAY HOWSE!" shrieked the three-year-old Admirala as she sped after the young blond boy of the same age, who was fleeing for his life.

"No! I don't wanna play house with you! I'll get cooties!" shouted Edward over his shoulder. All he had to do was get home…

"BUT YOU PWAY WITH WINRY ALL THE TIME!" replied Admirala in her earsplitting voice.

"Yeah! But Winry's special, so she doesn't get them! Besides, yours would sparkle an' I wouldn't be able to play hide an' seek no more!" Edward's terror mounted as he realized that he was running out of breath. No… had to get inside… Mommy and Daddy would protect him…

That was when he tripped. Admirala was on him like a starved vulture on a dead wildebeest.

"NOOOOO! DADDY, SAVE MEEEEE!" screamed Edward, but to no avail.

"Okay, Edward! You can be the daddy and I can be the mommy and 'Fonsie can be the baby-"

"NOOO! He's just a little baby an' he'll get scary dreams for the rest of his life! Mommy said I can't do anything that'll scare 'Fonsie!"

"-an' then we can pway doctor!"

"WAAAAAUGH!"

And then there was Hohenheim, in all his Nordic glory.(1) He wore the stern look of adults who can only deal with certain types of young children, with the one currently pinning down his son being excluded from those types.

* * *

(1)One of the major reasons that Edward was angry about his father's disappearance was that he wasn't there to protect him from Admirala anymore.

* * *

"Admirala, are you terrifying my son again?" he said. Edward suddenly decided that the priest who had come through a few days ago hadn't been lying about Leto loving him.

"No," she said, having a vocabulary of about nine words. "We were jus' gonna pway house an' then pway doctor-"

"That settles it. Edward, we're going home, and I'm going to have a talk with your parents, young lady-"

"Oh, they died last week." There was an awkward silence.

"What?"

"A bunch of guys came up and set our house on fire." There was a short pause where Admirala looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "It was pretty."

Hohenheim stared in horror for a few seconds. Good God, any second her head would turn 360 degrees and she'd vomit pea soup all over his good waistcoat.(2) He nervously looked down at his son, who'd apparently taken the opportunity to dart back to the house. Smart boy, thought the Alchemist as he slowly backed away from the demented child. He's already got more sense than his dad.

* * *

(2) Hohenheim had done his fair share of exorcisms, and the symptoms were pretty much the same for each one.(3)

(3) Minus the sparkles, of course.

* * *

"Don't go, Mr. Edward's-Daddy-Person," said the small, sparkling demon as her head started to twist. "I'm gonna mawwy you-"

Hohenheim bolted. He'd have to organize a neighborhood watch to confiscate all the tricycles in the area and then locate his Exorcism for Dummies book, a few stakes, his old cross necklace, and a lemon for good measure.

* * *

When Hohenheim reentered the house, Edward was already clinging to his mother and shivering like a leaf.

"What happened out there?" asked Trisha incredulously. "Did Edward see a scary dog?"

"No," replied Hohenheim darkly. "Admirala." Edward whimpered at the mention of the name, while his mother sighed in frustration.

"That's the third time this week. Poor Edward's been up all night because he's afraid that nasty little girl's going to eat him." Edward's shivering disintegrated into sobs. "Aw, it's okay, honey, Mommy's not going to let her hurt you."

"S-she said she's going after 'Fonsie!" said Edward through his terrified sobs. "I don't want her to eat 'Fonsie, too!"

"Oh, Admirala won't eat Alphonse," said Hohenheim with a strange gleam in his eyes. "Honey, do we have any decently sharp wooden stakes?"

"No, I don't think so-"she said before she realized what her husband was intent on doing. "You wouldn't!"

"It's a necessary evil, Tri," answered Hohenheim. "She said that she watched her house burn down-with her parents in it, I might add-and said it was pretty." He paused to let it sink in. "And, if that's not enough, her head started to spin around like in that one story I told you-"

"But you know that stakes only work on vampires! Besides, I've always thought that there was some psychology behind those stakes-"

Hohenheim sighed. The thing about arguing with Trisha was that you always lost.

* * *

A man looked over the stormy hills. He was dressed in a military uniform, and he had an impressive moustache that managed to stick straight up on both sides, but other than that, he seemed to lack any sort of hair.

His name was General Basque Gran, and he was on a mission from God.(4)

* * *

(4) Well, not really, but the person who assigned it was practically immortal and knew quite a lot of interesting things, so they might be worshiped in some backwards tribes who still worshipped human sacrifice, so it all evened out.

* * *

"There's going to be a bugger of a storm tonight," said the man disinterestedly.

And how right he was.

* * *

"Honey, that hat looks silly," said Trisha disapprovingly. "And I'm sorry, but that trenchcoat looks horrible on you."

Mrs. Elric had a point: the black wide-brimmed hat looked horribly gaudy, and his faded brown coat with various religious symbols sewn into it looked as if it had gone out of fashion a century ago. It worked for the various Alucards that had betrayed their fellow demonic forces, and it may have worked for Van Helsing, but it certainly didn't work for Hohenheim.

"It's standard exorcism gear," said Hohenheim with the air of someone who had tried to explain this too many times to too many different people. "I'd be laughed out of the exorcism community, and I'm the only one who really knows what I'm doing these days."

"Well, at least take off that ridiculous necklace. Honestly, you look like you're emulating those young rebels who draw strange symbols on churches-"

"Sorry, honey, there's a demon out there who could be eating somebody's baby this second," said Hohenheim as he hastily exited the house. Trisha stared in a mixture of anxiety and marital fury, and then yelled out, "Don't get yourself killed!"

* * *

Admirala was distraught.

"I just wanted to pway doctor," she said to nobody in particular. "I reawwy did. They didn't have to be so mean." She thought back to when her parents had been angry with her. They always punished her, didn't they? And they got what was coming to them.

An evil smile spread across Admirala's face. Edward would get what was coming to him now.

She struck out in the direction of the Elrics' house.

* * *

"You!" snarled Gran at an innocent townsperson, who blinked. People didn't talk to you like that in Risembool.

"Yes, sir?"

"Have you seen-" he paused to look at the paper that had been given to him "- a small girl, about three years old, with green hair and a cloud of sparkles surrounding her, goes by the name of Admirala-"

The man's face screwed up in horror.

"Y'mean, the little demon girl whose house burned down a few days ago?"

"If her name is Admirala Edwina Pheonix, then yes," answered the general, furious that this uneducated redneck had interrupted him. The man pointed in the direction of the road that led to Edward's house.

"She was last seen… oh, round that way. You won't tell her I sent you, will you? Because I don't want my crops to fail-"

"Just shut up," snarled Gran. "I don't have time for you and your little hick town."

If looks could kill, then Scar would've been spared the trouble of killing Gran a few years later. As soon as the general's back was turned, the farmer gave him a prime example of the Risembool County One-Finger Salute.

* * *

Hohenheim ran through his list of supplies. Cross? Check. Lemon? Check. Carrot? Check. Mallet? Check. Holy water? Just blessed yesterday. Stakes? None. He hoped he wouldn't need any. Staff with a knob on the end? Check.(5)

* * *

(5) You never knew when you needed an impromptu, easily transmutable weapon. It helped if it was also the subject of an amusing song that you could hum to take your mind off the gravity of the situation.

* * *

He was set for whatever kind of demon that Admirala happened to be. He stopped walking when he noticed the glimmer of sparkles climb into view.

It began to rain.

* * *

"Bugger!" snarled Gran. It always had to start raining when he hadn't thought to bring an umbrella… and that thunder didn't sound too promising.(6) He'd have to find his quarry soon…

* * *

(6) It was a common military joke that Gran couldn't go out in a thunderstorm because his moustache would act as a lightning rod. It became much less common when Gran heard it himself.

* * *

He noticed a glimmer of sparkles up ahead and smiled grimly. It was his lucky day.

* * *

"Hi, Mister Edward's-Daddy-Person," said Admirala in a tone that would make brave men dart towards the nearest bomb shelter. "Did you change your mind about playing with me?"

Hohenheim noted that the painfully cute lisp had disappeared. It was probably just a ruse to cover up her demonic nature… or had the deaths of her parents awakened her powers? Nevertheless, the exorcist stood his ground.

"If you could call it playing," he answered grimly. He removed the cross from the chain around his neck and held it out at arm's length. "In the name of whatever god's listening at this moment, depart from this world, foul spirit!" As soon as the words left his mouth he grimaced. That had to be one of the cheesiest exorcisms in recent history. Admirala just stared.

"What's that supposed to be?"

Oh, hell. It wasn't working.

"It's a, er, crucifix. It's supposed to be good at offing demons-"

"What is going on here?"

Hohenheim turned to see Gran, soaked to the bone(7) and angrier than a cat that's been sat on.

* * *

(7) Though his moustache was still in perfect condition.

* * *

"An exorcism, sir. I'd advise you to stand back if you value your immortal soul."

A vein bulged in Gran's temple. He had come to some backwater town when there was a war to be fought, it was raining, and some fruit in a stupid hat was impeding his progress.

"Now, see here," said the general, trying (and failing) to keep his voice under control, "I've got an order to claim this girl here-" he pointed to Admirala, who smiled charmingly "-and bring her back to Central for the war effort."

Hohenheim stared in a mixture and horror and amazement. "I never thought the Fuhrer would stoop so low as to involve children. But, considering whom he is, I wouldn't expect him to have any real morals."

"If you hand over the girl, then I will pretend that I never heard that statement and you will not be convicted of treason."

"She'll eat your soul! You can see the bloody symbol of the Beast on her forehead!"

"If she eats my soul, then it's my problem, then, isn't it?"

Hohenheim gaped. What kind of morons were in charge of the Amestrian government these days?

"Look, I'm doing this for the good of humanity-"

Gran had enough. He was lucky he'd brought his gauntlet along.

"Do you know who you are talking to?" snarled the general.

"Some idiot with no sense of self-preservation?"

"I am General Basque Gran, the Iron-Blood Alchemist!"

"Oh, so you're the general who, by popular consensus, is the worst bastard to have a position in the military?" The corner of Hohenheim's mouth twisted up. "Pleased to meet you. My name's Hohenheim. Of the Light, if you want to be precise."

"I'll keep that in mind for when I tell your relatives where all five of your graves are."

Admirala, who had been tormenting a frog for the past few minutes, broke the argument.

"This is boring," she whined. "I wanna go with the guy with the moustache."

"See?" said Gran triumphantly. "She knows what's good for her!"

A debate raged inside Hohenheim. On one hand, no sane man would unleash that thing on the world. He'd be regarded as an international loser and end up demonized in all sorts of history books and fairy tales, if there was any world left.

On the other hand, the military would be first to receive the blow, and it was doubtless that this idiot would claim all credit for finding the girl in the first place. His name probably wouldn't be mentioned. If it was, it would end up terribly mispronounced and the world's destruction would be attributed to a Horham of Luke.

All in all, the latter seemed more likely.

"Fine. Take the girl, you pedophile. If things come to the end of the world, then don't say I didn't warn you." Hohenheim adjusted his hat and began to walk off, which infuriated Gran. How dare he just walk off after insulting him like that?

"Your hat is stupid!" he snarled, hoping to gain some kind of upper hand.

"It's more for functionality than looks," said Hohenheim over his shoulder. "Note that I am not completely soaked and you are."

The man had disappeared into the rain before Gran could brutalize him, narrowly avoiding the Risembool Rebellion that, in another universe, was an embarrassing loss for the Amestrian government. Which might've been better for humanity in general, as in that leg of the Trousers of Time, Admirala was killed in the crossfire.

That universe is, unfortunately, not the one being recorded here.

"Thank you for saving me, Mr. Guy-With-A-Cool-Moustache!" said Admirala cheerfully.

"Yeah, okay, shut up, kid."

* * *

"You are just walking out of school when you see Asuka Namikawa, the hottest girl in the school. She has straight black hair, long legs, and an eighty millimeter chest. What do you do?

If you ASK HER OUT, turn to page 18.

If you STALK HER, turn to page 91.

If you PUT IT IN, turn to page 50."

"Put it in? What kind of option is that?" asked a pale, dark haired youth of about twenty. His name was Roy Mustang.

"It could be talking about a cassette tape, considering how popular they are in Xing." said a man who looked to be in his late thirties who seemed cursed with premature balding, as the only hair he had was one blond bang. Another curious thing about him was the fact that he seemed to sparkle in a certain light. It should come as no surprise to find out that this man's name was Alex Louis Armstrong.

"Won't hurt to find out," said the man currently in possession of the book. He had long black hair that was tied back in a ponytail and lupine yellow eyes. He was rather attractive, but anyone who had heard of him would decline as politely as possible. Of course, that situation would never present itself, as Zolf J. Kimblee was interested in one thing: explosions. The bigger, the better.

Kimblee flipped to page fifty and was greeted with an… interesting illustration.

"Holy- That can't be legal!"

"Let me see," said Roy, who immediately wished he hadn't. "Ugh! What kind of person would like that kind of thing?"

"That reminds me of a tapestry I saw when I was studying Shogi culture," said Armstrong. "I always wondered what the obsession with the tentacles was fueled by."

"Well, I did hear that in Xing you're not allowed to draw a-"

"Attention!" yelled Gran as he walked into the tent. Kimblee quickly hid the incriminating book under his bench. "I have some good news for you all!"

"The war's over?" inquired Armstrong.

"I'm being promoted?" asked Roy excitedly.

"We're getting more of those Philosopher's Stone things?" said Kimblee with an odd gleam in his eyes.

"No," said Gran, which caused a small drop in the interest levels of the three soldiers. "We have a secret weapon."

There was an awkward silence.

"I thought the Philosopher's Stones were-" began Roy, who was quickly cut off.

"You will not question your superiors, Flame!" snarled Gran.

A green haired girl of about five walked into the tent. She waved cutely, but there was something about her that was horribly wrong. It was like a puppy drenched in human blood.

"This is Admirala Edwina Pheonix, the Sparkilypoo Alchemist,"(8) said Gran as he absently gestured to the girl. "She has been undergoing rigorous training programs for the past two- stop snickering, Crimson!"

* * *

(8) Edward was considered the youngest State Alchemist because Bradley felt that the public would sleep better if they didn't know about Admirala.

* * *

"Sorry, sir," said Kimblee as he tried to restrain his laughter. "It's just that I doubt a little girl could do much damage."

"Oh, you'll find out what she can do soon enough," said Gran darkly.

"Hi, everyone!" said Admirala. "I know it seems kinda weird, but I'm sure we'll be friends soon enough!"

Admirala couldn't have been farther from the mark. Kimblee loathed her as soon as she opened her mouth. If she was as powerful as Gran had said, then he wouldn't be able to make as many things explode. Besides, she had the most annoying voice he had ever heard. Kimblee resolved that, the first chance he got, he would kill her and make it look like an accident.

Roy was afraid of her. There was something very wrong about Admirala. Perhaps it was the odd gleam in her eyes. Perhaps it was her smile, which somehow managed to be charming and chilling at the same time. Maybe it was nothing but a gut feeling, but whatever the case, he felt uncomfortable being in her general vicinity.

Armstrong felt disappointed that someone had figured out the Armstrong Family's Sparkling Ability That Had Been Passed Down For Generations. It made him feel as though his copyright had been infringed on. Also, the girl made him uneasy. There was something very wrong about her, and Armstrong was one of the types who were generally good natured toward everyone.

Let us pretend for a few minutes that Admirala didn't have any demonic powers. Imagine that she was killed in her first battle, that she was one of the few State Alchemist casualties of the war. The streets of the Ishbalan cities she was assigned to destroy didn't run red with blood, there were no stories among surviving Ishbalans of an unholy child that killed countless people and left buildings standing as grim monuments.

It will make you a lot more cheerful.

(Yeah, I lied about Admirala's age when she joined the military. I figured it would be more Sue-ish, and when do Suethors keep anything consistent?)


End file.
